Working in Fashion
by VioletRose13
Summary: [The Grinch 2018] Martha May went to school to become a teacher and she thought that would become just that. But instead, she ended up getting a job at Who Runway Fashion Magazine… and she hated it.
1. The Interview

Martha May stood in front of one of the biggest skyscrapers in all of Who York City; it was the headquarters for Who Runway Magazine, the most successful and well-known fashion magazine in all of the Land of Seuss. She was holding a folder with a résumé, references, and a few other things and wearing her best dress shirt, pants, jacket, and shoes. She looked ready for this job interview, but she didn't feel ready. Taking one last look at her résumé, she closed her folder, took a deep breath, and stepped into the building.

The moment she reached the right floor, Martha stood in front of a desk and asked the man behind it, "Hi. I have an appointment with… Heather Whomont?"

"Martha May Whovier?" A woman with blond hair and sea foam green eyes said as she entered the room; she was wearing a blue mini vest with a yellow long sleeve shirt underneath, a pair of blue jeans, and yellow heeled shoes, and she was holding a clipboard and a cell phone.

"Yes, that's me." Martha said.

"Good. Hmmm, not bad. Not bad at all. Follow me."

Martha followed the woman, dubbed Heather, past the desk and down the hall while Heather was speaking.

"Okay, I was Johanna's second assistant, but the first assistant recently got promoted so now, _I'm_ the first." She said

"And you're replacing yourself?" Martha joked.

"I'm trying. Johanna sacked the last two girls after only a few weeks. We need someone who can survive working in a place like this, do you understand?"

"Yes, of course… And who's Johanna?"

Heather paused and looked at Martha with wide eyes. "You don't know who Johanna Starling is?" Martha shook her head; Heather sighed. "She's the editor in chief of Who Runway, not to mention a legend. You work here for a year and you can get a job at _any_ magazine you want; a million girls would kill for this job. I promise you, this is the opportunity of a lifetime."

"Wow. It… sounds like a great opportunity. I'd love to be considered."

Heather laughed as she and Martha stepped into a room with two desks across from one another. There was a doorway leading to an office in between them; Heather stopped and turned to face the redhead.

"Martha May, please. Who Runway is a _fashion_ magazine, so an _interest_ in fashion is pretty crucial. Understand?" She scoffed.

"What makes you think I'm not interested in fashion?" Martha asked before Heather's cellular phone beeped.

She checked it and her eyes immediately widened. "What? Oh my gosh. No, no, NO!" She hurried to the desk on her right and started to search for the landline.

"What's wrong?" Martha asked, confused and slightly frightened.

Heather didn't respond; she just picked up the phone and said into it, "Johanna is coming, she's on her way. Tell everyone." She hung up as a man with dark brown hair and wearing a silvery white suit walked in.

"What is happening, Heather? She's not supposed to be here until 9:00." The man said.

"Her driver just texted and one of her morning spa appointments just cancelled, out of nowhere!" Heather replied with a scoff. "Can you believe these people?"

"Hardly. The nerve of some people." He noticed Martha and looked back at Heather with a look that said, 'Who's that?'

"Oh, her? Don't worry about her, Franklin. She's here for a job interview."

"Everyone, to your stations! NOW! Come on, let's go!" The man, Franklin, said to everyone in the hall.

The minute he said that, everyone on the entire floor started to prepare themselves for Johanna Starling's early arrival. They cleaned up their work spaces, applied makeup and proper shoes, and Heather even had to set up magazine's on Johanna's desk. Martha had no idea what was going on; she just watched as every single person she could see was buzzing about like a swarm of bees, making sure everything was absolutely perfect.

"Um, Heather? What should _I_ do?" She asked.

"Just stay here and wait. And _don't_ do anything stupid while I'm gone." Heather said as she rushed out the door to meet with her employer.

"Don't do anything stupid, got it." Martha casually leaned on the second desk and patiently waited for a few minutes until Heather returned with an older woman with dark skin, blonde hair, green eyes, and wearing expensive clothing in front of her; that must've been Johanna Starling.

"Thank you for your report, Heather. And you'd better do those things I asked. If not, then you know the consequences. Wait, who's that?" The woman asked as she headed into her office.

"Oh, no one." Heather stammered. "Uh, I mean, she's here to apply for the second assistant opening. I was sort of pre-interviewing her, but she is absolutely hopeless."

"Send her in." Johanna said, sitting down at her desk.

"What?"

"You heard me, send her in. I'll clearly have to see her for myself. The last two girls you sent me were completely inadequate. Send her in. I won't ask you again. That will be all."

"…Yes, Johanna."

Heather gestured for Martha to go in before she walked away. Martha took a deep breath and reluctantly entered Johanna Starling's office. Johanna looked up from her work and gave the young redhead a look she couldn't quite define.

"And _you_ are?" She asked.

"Hello, my name is Martha May Whovier." Martha said, putting her folder on the desk. "I recently graduated from Northeastern Who University."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I… think I can do a good job as your assistant."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"…So you don't read Who Runway?"

"No, I _do_. I do. Just… not very often."

"And before today, you've never heard of _me_."

"…No, not really."

"And you have no style or sense of fashion."

"Um… was that a question?"

"No, it wasn't."

After a moment, Martha decided to change the subject.

"I was once editor in chief of the Daily Who Eastern." She said. "I did a column on the Art Institutes along with the Charity and Volunteer works, which I am personally quite proud of. It summarizes the different programs and events we've organized during my time there and—"

"That's all." Johanna quickly said.

Martha paused; she hadn't realized how rude and cold the editor in chief of such a successful magazine could be. Then again, it's not like she didn't see this coming. Feeling defeated and somewhat relieved, she was about to turn around to leave before saying, "You're right. I don't belong here. I'm not skinny or glamorous and I may not know a lot about fashion… but I'm smart. I'm organized, I'm responsible, I learn fast, and I will work very hard to—"

Before Martha could finish, Franklin suddenly came in with a stack of papers and he put them on Johanna's desk.

"Johanna, I really need your opinion on this. It's very important." He said. "It's about this cover art concept. The girl and the rest of the outfit are perfectly fine, but that enormous feathered headdress she's wearing makes her look like a flapper from who knows when."

"Thank you for your time." Martha awkwardly said before making her way to the exit.

"Who is that?" Franklin asked himself. "If you ask me, she looks to have a lot of potential."

"That's for _me_ to decide, Franklin." Johanna said coldly.

"Yes, of course."

That evening, Martha had just finished cooking dinner when she heard the front door of the lavish abode she lived in open. She turned her heard in the direction of the door to see a short round man wearing a gray and brown suit standing in the doorway. He gave her a bored look.

"Hello, August." She said, quickly standing up from the table. "How was work?"

"The same." August said, hanging his scarf and coat on the nearby coat rack. He went over to the table and sat down. "Where is dinner?"

"It's in the kitchen." Martha answered.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go get it."

"Right, of course."

Martha stood up, sped into the kitchen, and quickly returned with a few platters of food. She set them down on the table and sat down across from August. As she watched him eat, she twiddled her thumbs under the table and sat in silence. August quickly took notice and paused.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing." Martha answered. "I'm just… thinking."

"What did I say about thinking?"

"That it's a waste of time and that I shouldn't bother with it."

"Precisely… How did that interview go?"

"Honestly… I don't know. I doubt I'll get the job though."

"Why?"

"Because… because I don't fit in."

August stopped eating and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "Please tell me you're joking. You are twenty-two years old now and you have been living with me for the past three years; I cannot be the only working Who in this household, you _must_ understand that. You need a job as well, Martha May."

"I know. And I _do_ understand, I really do. But… can't it be something like my _old_ job?"

"Teaching? Storytelling? _No_. Working with children is pointless and unfulfilling; I've told you this a dozen times before, yet you still fail to see the truth." He paused. "Tell you what; if Johanna Starling doesn't call back within the next three days… you can get a job at the local library or bookstore."

"Really?" Martha's eyes lit up.

"Why, of course. Would I lie to you?"

Martha smiled a sheepish smirk as August took her hand in his own. "No, you wouldn't."

"Good. Now eat up. You're _far_ too thin." He let go of her hand and continued to eat.

'Too thin? _Me_? Maybe I like not being fat.' Martha thought, reluctantly taking a small spoonful of mashed potatoes and placing them on her plate.


	2. First Day on the Job Part 1

Two days later, Martha May woke up to the sound of her cell phone ringing. She begrudgingly picked it up, answered it, and said,

"Hello?"

"Did you just wake up?" Heather's voice answered back.

"Heather? What's going on?" Martha yawned.

"Never mind. I need you to get down to the office right this second, _with_ Johanna's coffee." Heather replied.

"Coffee? Johanna? NOW?"

"Yes, NOW. Get a pen and write this down. I need one no-foam Latte with extra almond milk and three skimmed coffees with foam and sugar. Got it? Good. See you soon."

Before Martha could say another word, Heather had already hung up the phone. Martha sighed and ran a hand through her fiery hair in frustration as she sat up in bed.

'Looks like I have the job.' She thought, heading towards the closet.

By now, Martha had picked up the four cups of coffee and heading to the office as fast as she possibly can when her cell phone rang. She picked up.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Where are you?" Heather asked.

"Oh! Don't worry, Heather. I'm almost there."

"Hurry up. Johanna is growing impatient." Heather hung up.

Martha picked up the pace. Johanna and a few other people were in her office, waiting for Martha to arrive with their coffee.

"Is there some reason as to why my coffee isn't here yet?" Johanna asked Heather. "Did she get in an accident or something?"

"No. No, she couldn't have. Where in the world is she?" Heather said as she picked up the phone, only for Martha to arrive only a few seconds later. She put the receiver down and took the coffee from Martha. "Oh, it's about time! Now hang up that coat of yours, if you can even call it that."

Martha nodded and went to hang up her coat just as Heather went into Johanna's office to give her the cups of coffee. She quickly sat down at the second desk.

"Okay, you and I answer the phones." Heather explained as she headed back to her own desk. "It must be answered every single time it rings. Calls roll to voicemail and she gets very upset. And you are not to leave that desk until someone says you can leave."

"But what if I need to—" Martha started.

"What? The last time an assistant left the desk was when she got a bloody nose. She went to the bathroom to clean it up and because of that, Johanna missed Kalfonzo just before he boarded a 12-hour flight to the Jungle of Nool for research. She now works at TV Guide."

Martha paused. "Stay at the desk at all times, got it."

"Good. Now remember, you and I have totally different jobs. You get coffee and run errands, but I am in charge of her schedule, her appointments, and her expenses. But most importantly, _I_ get to go with her to Thneedville for Fashion Week in the spring."

"_Thneedville_? You mean that plastic, manufactured town with no trees or live plants? _That_ horrible place has a Fashion Week?"

"Of course it does, every few years. I get to wear the most gorgeous clothes, I go to all the shows and parties, I meet all of the designers and models and celebrities; it's just divine."

"…Sounds like fun." Martha rolled her eyes.

"Oh believe me, it is. Now stay here; I'm going to the art department to give them the book." Heather then went over to Martha's desk and showed her a large spiral book. "_This_ is the book. It is a mock-up of everything in the current issue. We deliver it to Johanna's place every night and she returns in the morning with her notes. Usually, the second assistant is supposed to do this, but Johanna is very private and she doesn't like strangers in her home. Until she decides that you're not a villain or a total psychopath, I get the task of waiting around for the book. And don't worry, I'll be right back."

Just as Heather started to walk away, the phone on Martha's desk rang. "Um, Heather? What should I…?"

"Deal with it. You're smart, you can handle it." Heather said before she disappeared down the hall.

After a moment, Martha picked up the phone and said, "Johanna Starling's office. She's in a meeting right now, but I can take a message. Okay, uh-huh." She took out a sticky note and a pen and began to write what the person on the other end was telling her. "Okay, is that it? Great. I'll get it to her very soon. Thank you, bye." She hung up and let out a soft sigh.

"Well handled." A voice said; Martha looked and saw that it was Franklin; he was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes. "I thought you might need these. Size six, I assume?"

"I don't think I need these shoes, but thanks anyway. You're Franklin, right?" Martha said, reluctantly taking the shoes and setting them on her desk.

"Yes, and _you_ are the new girl. Martha May, if I'm not mistaken." Franklin replied.

"You're not mistaken… Is something wrong?"

"It's just… that outfit you're wearing. What were you thinking?"

"Oh?" Martha looked down at herself; she was wearing a lime green sweater over a white dress shirt with a black skirt, white tights, and casual black flats. "…I was in a hurry and didn't have time to choose something really stylish."

"Heather? Heather?" Johanna's voice called from her office.

"She means _you_." Franklin said.

"Oh, okay." Martha said, getting up from her desk and race-walking into the office. "Yes, Johanna?"

"There you are." Johanna said. "How many times do I have to scream your name, Heather?"

"Actually, it's Martha. Martha May? My name is Martha May."

"Whatever. I need five to ten skirts from Effie Nickels. And make sure we have Tier 15 at exactly 8:30 am tomorrow. Remind Natalie I need to see a few of those satchels. And then tell Willow I'll take Tara if Raquel isn't available. Oh, and Heather?"

"…Yes?"

Johanna looked down at Martha's feet, noticing the shoes. She looked back up at her face with a bored expression. "That will be all."

Unsure of what just happened, Martha quickly turned around and went back to her desk; she picked up the shoes. "On second thought, maybe I _do_ need these."

"Told you." Franklin said before making his exit; Heather soon returned without the book.

"So, how'd it go?" She asked.

"Well, Johanna just told me to get five or ten Effie Nickels skirts, something about Tier 15 at 8:30 tomorrow, someone named Natalie with satchels, and Willow about two girls named Tara and Raquel, I think. She was going so fast, I could hardly keep up." Martha explained.

"Maybe next time, buy yourself a tape recorder." Heather said, taking a recorder out of one of her desk drawers. "That's what _I_ did when I first started working here."

"Um, good to know." Martha picked up the phone, but Heather stopped her.

"Why don't I take care of Natalie and Willow?" She offered. "We could split it up; we'll get it done _so_ much faster if we do it together."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course. It sounds like you're in way too over your head already. You need all the help you can get."

"…You have no idea."

"Don't worry, I've seen it _plenty_ of times before. You're not the only one who's struggled on her first day. I'll talk with Willow and Natalie while you handle Effie Nickels and Tier 15."

"Thank you so much, Heather. How can I ever repay you?"

"Later. Right now, we have work to do. Come on."


	3. First Day on the Job Part 2

After a while, they were finally done. They'd gotten the skirts Johanna wanted, double-checked Tier 15's appearance, and talked with both Willow and Natalie. They returned to their desks in a heap.

"Whew! We're done." Martha breathed.

"I told you we can get it done faster together." Heather said as a girl with black hair and glasses came in. She got up from her desk. "Ah, Lois. Looks like it's time for lunch."

"It is." Lois said before noticing Martha. "Is that her?"

"Yeah, that's the new girl, Martha May."

"Um, hi."

"She doesn't look like much." Lois whispered to Heather.

"Appearances can be deceiving, my friend." Heather said, nudging her in the ribs. "Oh, Martha. I'm about to go on my lunch break with Lois. I get twenty minutes for lunch and you get fifteen. So when I come back, you can go."

"Okay, good to know. Again, thanks for your help." Martha said.

"Don't mention it." Heather replied as she and Lois walked away.

"Heather?" Johanna's voice said.

Thinking fast, Martha took a notepad and pen and headed into Johanna's office to see what she wanted this time. Luckily, Franklin was in there with Johanna and a few other people. He noticed and quickly went over to her.

"What are you doing here? He called Heather." He whispered.

"She just went on lunch with someone named Lois." Martha whispered.

"Oh boy. Well, now that you're here, you might as well listen. And good job in taking notes." Franklin said before going back over to Johanna. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing much." Johanna casually replied.

They were discussing about fashion something Martha couldn't decipher; they were looking at a cocktail dress with a sheer pink wrap around the waist and hips.

"Where are the belts for this dress?" Johanna asked before a girl went over and picked up two belts. She sighed. "Why is no one ready?"

"Here they are. It's a tough call, though." The girl said, holding up the two belts. They looked almost identical, except for the buckles. One was a formal automatic latch buckle and the other looked like a buckle people would see on a wrestling championship belt. "They're so different."

Martha took a quick look at the belts and thought long and hard about both of them. She thought the latch buckle wouldn't flatter the dress at all, but the wrestling buckle would compliment it rather nicely. Johanna and everyone else turned their heads in Martha direction just as she looked down at her notes.

"Something funny?" Johanna asked.

Martha looked up from the notepad to see everyone else staring at her. She paused, trying to find the right words. "What? No. No, no of course not. I just thought the dress would look better with the belt with the wrestling buckle rather than the latch buckle, especially if they were a different color. Like a deep red or auburn or even black, for example. But I didn't mean to butt in. I'm still learning everything here and—"

"No, wait. Come over here." Johanna ordered; Martha reluctantly did as she was told, only for Johanna to snatch the paper and pen out of her hands. "You said you don't read Who Runway often. And that you don't know much about fashion." She turned Martha around to face the dress. "See if you can find the perfect accessories for this dress. I want to see what you can do."

"…Okay." Martha took the wrestling buckle belt and wrapped it around the dress.

"Don't stop there. Keep going." Johanna commented.

And she did. Martha took a red velvet jacket and a magenta scarf, put the jacket on the hanger over the dress, and tied the scarf around the hanger over the dress. She paused.

"What do you think?" She asked.

Everyone stared at Martha with wide eyes; they hadn't expected Johanna's newest second assistant to do something like this, especially since she said she hardly knew much about fashion in general. Johanna looked at Martha.

"…Not bad. Not bad at all." She said before pausing. "You can go to lunch now."

"Oh? Oh! Uh, thank you, Johanna." Martha said before she made a quick exit.

Franklin gaped at Martha before she vanished from view. In the cafeteria, Martha couldn't believe what just happened. She got her food and looked around, hoping to find Heather and Lois and she soon found them at a table by a window.

"I have no idea why Johanna hired her, honestly." Heather said.

"Me neither." Lois said.

"Hey, mind if I sit with you?" Martha asked.

Heather and Lois looked to see Martha standing there.

"Uh, sure." Heather offered her a seat, which she promptly took. As she watched Martha eat, Heather looked confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Johanna let me go to lunch." Martha replied, taking a bite out of a roast beast sandwich. "Well, after she told me to coordinate and put together an outfit for her."

"She what?" Lois asked.

"Yeah. I just made a comment about some belts and she told me to add the right accessories for a dress they had out. So, I did."

Lois and Heather looked at each other then at Martha, just as shocked as Johanna and their other superiors.

"I thought you said you don't know much about fashion." Heather commented.

"I don't… At least I don't think so." Martha casually replied.

The three girls sat in silence for the rest of their lunch break.

After work, Martha sat alone on her bed, wondering what just happened to her that very day. She was practically given the second assistant job at Who Runway, Heather Whomont offered to help her on her first assignments, and Johanna Starling asked her to put together an ensemble. She would've never expected this, any of this. She picked up her purse and took out a picture frame; it was a picture of her and the Grinch from the Christmas Pageant all those years ago. She smiled before she heard the front door open; August was home early. She quickly put the framed picture away and went out of the room to meet with August.


	4. Several Days Later

Several days went by and Martha still worked at Who Runway as Johanna Starling's second assistant. She had to do all sorts of jobs for Johanna, either somewhat important or completely unreasonable. She would hang Johanna's coat and get her coffee before doing things like buy things for her children, make reservations at expensive restaurants, and even walk her pet poodle around the city. Luckily, Heather was around to help… but not much, unfortunately.

This went on for a few weeks and Martha was growing more and more bored and tired with these annoying and menial tasks and worse, Johanna's selfish and bossy attitude. But she stayed and worked hard; hoping and praying things would get better for her with time. If they didn't, then she would leave and never look back. But she kept those thoughts to herself; she didn't want anyone to see her as selfish or lazy.

Everyone at Who Runway thought of Martha as a smart, fat redhead with little to no knowledge about fashion whatsoever, so they usually ignored her. But she was fine with people ignoring her… especially when she started bringing her framed photo of her and the Grinch to work with her. When no one was looking, she'd take it out of her purse and just stare at the photo with a smile, remembering her time in Whoville. Oh how she wanted to go back, especially during Christmastime, but she knew that neither Johanna nor August would allow it.

Months passed; it was Christmastime at the office and Martha couldn't be more chipper. She always felt happy during the holiday season. But when she came in, she saw that there weren't any gifts, trees, lights, or decorations. In fact, there was hardly anything that remotely resembled anything Christmassy. She was very surprised.

"Um, Franklin? Don't you guys ever decorate?" Martha asked as she sat at her desk; Franklin was standing near it.

"For what?" He asked.

"For Christmas, of course. You know, Santa Claus and 'Ho ho ho' and sparkling lights and giving gifts to your family and friends?"

"Oh, that. Well… we don't do that around here."

Martha's eyes popped and she almost gasped. "What?! Why not?"

"Because it's not what Who Runway does, especially when Johanna took over."

"Johanna doesn't like Christmas?"

"Not really. When I first started working here, I asked Johanna why we don't decorate, and do you know what she told me?"

"No."

"She said decorating the office for _any_ holiday would be a distraction for the other workers, not to mention a waste of time and money. Her words, not mine. I was shocked. I heard Who Runway used to decorate for Christmas _every_ year… that is until she was promoted to editor in chief."

"But… but that's not fair."

"I know it isn't. But nobody ever said life was fair." Franklin's phone beeped. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some files to fax." And he walked out the door just as Heather came in.

"What's with the long face?" Heather asked.

"Who Runway doesn't decorate for Christmas. It's sad." Martha replied with a frown.

"Well, there's nothing you can really do about that. Johanna forbids anything Christmassy, especially lights and ornaments, so you might as well get used to it." Heather sat down at her desk and let out a sneeze; she blew her nose with a tissue. "Blech…"

"How's your cold doing?"

"Still torture. Ugh, I _hate_ winter."

"Really? I've always liked it, especially when it snows."

"Ugh, don't even get me started on snow. It is the _worst_. It's cold and wet and you can't do anything in it."

"That's not true; you can do all kinds of things in winter. You can go sledding, you can go ice skating, you can build things like forts or snowmen, you can have snowball fights and—"

"Yeah, I'm hearing this." Heather made a talking gesture with her hand. "…and I wanna hear this." She made a shut up gesture and Martha stayed quiet. Heather suddenly shot up. "Oh no! The benefit! It's _tonight_! I've been looking forward to it for weeks! I _can't_ be sick, I _need_ to be there."

"Ladies! I need you." Johanna's voice called from her office.

Heather and Martha looked at each other before slowly getting up and heading into Johanna's office to see what she wanted from them. They stood in front of her desk, anxiously waiting for their superior to speak.

"Johanna?" They both asked.

"For the benefit tonight, I need you both fully-prepped on the guest list." Johanna answered.

Heather and Martha looked at each other with wide eyes, then turned back to their boss.

"Both of us?" Martha asked. "But I thought only the first assistant went to the benefit."

"Only when the first assistant hasn't come down with such a contagious, pathological disease." Johanna said.

"But, Johanna, it's just a cold." Heather said.

"Yes, but it's still contagious, isn't it? But that's where _you_ come in Martha. _You_ will come and help Heather… That's all."

"Yes, Johanna." Both girls said, turning on their heels and heading back to their desks.

Heather took out two three-ring binders and gave one to Martha. "Okay, these are all of the guests who will be in attendance tonight. Johanna invited every single person in here and we have to make sure that they think she knows exactly who they are. I've been studying for weeks."

"I have to learn _all_ of these by tonight?" Martha asked, flipping through the binder in disbelief.

"Don't be silly, Martha May. These ones, too." Heather pushed the second binder into her co-worker's hands and gave a smug smile; Martha sighed.

"August is going to kill me for this."

"Wait, what?"

"What?"

"You just said something about someone killing you."

"Uh, no I didn't. I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did. Who's August?"

"Just someone I know. I'll tell you about him later, Heather. I gotta go; I've got a _lot_ of studying to do. I also need to style my hair and pick out an outfit and shoes and everything."

"Wait, is there something I shoul—?"

"Bye."

Martha grabbed the two binders and briskly walked out the door… leaving her new purse behind. Heather noticed and picked it up before she started to rummage through it.

"Seriously, Martha?" She muttered. "No compact mirrors, eye liner, lipstick, or mascara? Just cheap lip balm, a wallet, a book, and a…" She spotted something else and reached for it. "…What's this?" She took it out and saw that it was a framed photo of Martha as a little girl with a creature she has never seen before. Her eyes widened. "What in the world is _this_?" She set the picture on the desk and took out the small book; it looked like Martha's diary. "Oooh, this oughta be good." She opened the book and started to read the first page.

"Heather, what are you doing out there?" Johanna called.

"Nothing, Johanna." Heather lied.

"Hey, I forgot my—Hey!" Martha's voice cried; Heather quickly turned around and hid the book and purse behind her back. "Heather, are you snooping through my purse?!" She snatched the bag, the book, and the framed picture from Heather and held them close. "How dare you!"

"How dare _I_? You just left it lying around." Heather retorted.

"That's no excuse to look through my stuff. Why would you do that?"

Heather opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the right words. Martha furrowed her brow and twisted her lips into a snarl as she put the journal and the picture back into her purse.

"Let us discuss this later." She hissed.

"There's something you're not telling me." Heather deduced with a sneer. "Why do you still have a diary? What's the point in carrying around that stupid picture? What was that green thing?"

"LATER."

Inhaling through her nose, Martha turned on her heels and walked out the door, leaving Heather completely speechless.


	5. At the Benefit

"And what are _you_ doing?"

Martha quickly turned at the sound of August's voice. His brow was furrowed and he had a sneer on his face; she froze as she stood in front of her open closet, clutching a red dress in her hands.

"Uh… I was just looking for an outfit." She answered.

"For what?" August asked.

"The benefit. Johanna wanted me to be there tonight."

August paused, then glanced at the garment in his girlfriend's hands. After a moment, he snatched it and held it up to get a better look. It was garnet red with a flowery print, lacey accents at the sleeves, and a long flowing skirt. He then glanced over at her with a disappointed scowl. She nervously grimaced.

"You _cannot_ wear this." He said, throwing the dress on the floor.

"Why not? I really like that one." Martha tried to argue.

"You need something classy and sophisticated, something that tells people you mean business. Something like…" He rummaged through the closet and pulled out a tight black cocktail dress with no sleeves; he also pulled out a pair of matching black sandals with buckles and high heels. "…this."

"You want me to wear _that_?" Martha's eyes widened in disgust; she absolutely hated that dress and she knew shoes like that would do nothing but give her blisters.

"Of course. I bought it for you and you haven't worn it yet."

"But… but this is a size _three_. I'm a size _five_. Will it even fit me?"

"Meh, we just need a little Crisco, a shoehorn, and some fishing line and we're good to go. You also need to do something with your hair and makeup."

"What's wrong with my hair?" She nervously grasped some of her hair in her hands.

"It's too bright and long. And your face is too boring, too average, too pale. What you need is mascara, eye liner, a dark lipstick, matching eye shadow, and a somewhat darker foundation and you'll be _perfect_."

Martha took a step back. 'I _really_ don't like where this is going.'

"Don't you want to make a good impression on Johanna and her peers? She's expecting you to look your absolute best and you certainly don't want to tarnish Who Runway's reputation, do you?"

"No! No, of course not."

"Good." August shoved the dress and shoes into her hands. "Now get ready. Once you put on that dress, I'll do your makeup and hair for you. Got it?"

Martha sighed and headed to the bathroom. "Yes, August."

"That's a good girl." He smiled as the bathroom door shut; he grabbed a hairbrush and a pair of scissors.

At the benefit, Heather was looking everywhere for Martha, but she was nowhere to be found. Tapping her foot, she checked her wrist watch; it was almost 7:30.

"Ugh, what is keeping her?" Heather mumbled in irritation. "She should be here by now."

"Heather, where in the name of Seuss is Martha May?" Johanna asked. "She's late."

"I know, Johanna. I always knew she would be a screw up."

Heather folded her arms before heard someone approach; she looked and saw Martha May stumbling over to her and Johanna. She was wearing the black dress and heeled sandals along with some pantyhose, studded bracelets, and a large diamond necklace with her bright red hair pulled into a bun and bangs almost covering half of her eyes and her face looked almost unrecognizable; she had ash gray eye shadow, maroon lipstick, and foundation that almost made her look tan. Heather and Johanna stared at her with wide eyes, unable to find the words.

"Martha? Is that you?" Heather asked.

"Yes, it's me." Martha said, rolling her eyes.

"What the heck happened to you?" Johanna asked.

"Johanna, can we just get this over with, _please_? I feel like an idiot." Martha groaned with a shiver.

"…You kind of look like one, too."

"Thank you for clearing that up, Heather. I am definitely going to need a bath and a foot massage after this. These heels are killing me right now."

Johanna examined her new assistant carefully before pausing. "That makeup and hairstyle is a big 'NO' and those shoes look awfully constricting, but the dress? Not _too_ bad, if not a little tight. That solid black color doesn't really flatter you, but you do you."

"This wasn't even _my_ idea. It was August's." Martha grumbled.

"Okay, would you mind telling me who August is already?" Heather asked.

"My… boyfriend since college. I've been living with him for the past few years."

"Oh, really? What's he like?"

"August? Oh, well… he's a very hard worker."

"Where does he work?"

"At town hall. He's a member of the city council."

"A politician, huh?"

"Of a sort, yeah. He works so hard for us. Long, hard days at work… and he's been stressed and a bit out of it lately."

"Well, why don't you get August something special? To cheer him up. A gift, like a tie or a pen… or something."

Martha paused. "You know… that's not a bad idea. I mean, he does take care of me. He's done so much for me; I can't seem to keep track of it all. He really is my whole world… and I'm his Little Flower. That's what he calls me anyways. I honestly wouldn't be where I am now, if not for him."

Something in the way Martha talked about this man struck a chord in Johanna. She couldn't quite put a finger on it though, like a double meaning behind her words. Martha continued.

"You know, I had a little money set aside… for a rainy day. Well, a _lot_ aside. I was planning a trip… but I guess getting him an expensive gift would be fine, too."

"There's a tie shop down the road. I saw a really good one with yellow and orange stripes on it. I think it's only about $25, maybe $30." Heather commented.

"Really? That sounds _perfect_, Heather." Martha breathed, putting a hand to her waist. "After this benefit, I'll go straight there, pick it up, and surprise him. It's brilliant. He's going to be over the moon about it, I just know it. I mean, who _wouldn't_ love something like that, right? Heh, right."

That same undertone she had when she spoke about her supposed 'true love' was leaking through her words again and it piqued Johanna's curiosity. She opened her mouth to ask for more details when Martha started to struggle to breathe smoothly and calmly; this worried Johanna when she noticed her face turn pale.

"Uh, Martha? Are you okay, darlin'?" She asked. "You don't look so hot."

"What? Me? Oh, I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. It… it's just a little difficult to catch my breath." Martha weakly answered before she leaned on to a nearby table to keep her balance.

"We need to get you out of here." Johanna concluded, grabbing Martha and propping her up on her shoulder.

"Johanna, wait. What about the benefit?" Heather asked.

"The benefit can wait, Heather. It's clear that Martha needs help and she needs it _now_. Get over here and help me take her out of here or you're fired." Johanna demanded; Heather quickly did as she was told and led Martha to the door.

0-0-0-0-0-0

At Johanna's house, Johanna had just taken off Martha's dress. Martha collapsed onto the sofa and gasped and wheezed for air as Heather wrapped a fuzzy bathrobe around her shoulders and took off her shoes and even undid her hair and washed off her makeup.

"Thank you SO much." Martha heaved.

"No problem." Heather commented.

"Don't mention it." Johanna said, holding up the garment in disgust. "No wonder you couldn't breathe! This thing is two sizes too small!" She picked up the shoes and threw them and the dress into a hatch in another corner of the room.

"Where does shoot that lead?"

"The incinerator. I only use it for real fashion emergencies, and this was _definitely_ an emergency."

"But, why'd you do that?" Martha asked.

"Because it's a crime against fashion, of course."

"No, not that. I mean… why'd you help me?"

Johanna paused and looked away in embarrassment before sitting next to Martha. "Because I don't want to see my employees hurt themselves for the sake of this company."

"But I thought you hated me."

"No, I don't. I value every single one of my employees, and you and Heather are no different. Look, I'm sorry for being so hard on you girls; it's just that I know you can survive working for me and even succeed at whatever if you push yourself as hard as you can. And I thought if I helped with that, then… then you would succeed. But as it turns out, it backfired and I'm sorry. I really do value everything you do for me and for this magazine; I'm just not good at properly expressing gratitude, or any other emotion for that matter."

Martha was taken aback very quickly; she certainly did not expect the great Johanna Starling to act so considerate and open towards her. For as long as she had known her boss, she always viewed her as selfish, arrogant, bossy, and full of herself. But it seems that it was all an act to cover up the insecurities she had. Johanna sighed covering her eyes; a tear trickled down her left cheek.

"Sorry, I don't do this to everyone." She said; her face turned serious as she wiped away the tear and looked at Martha and Heather. "If either of you tell anyone what you've just heard, I'll fire you both. Understand?"

"Yes, Johanna." They said in unison before all three women laughed.

"Now, Martha. I just want to know one more thing…" Johanna looked Martha in the eye. "…Why would you wear that dress to the benefit if it was too tight?"

"I-I… I didn't want to wear it." Martha explained before letting out a sigh. "…August told me to."

"Didn't you tell him 'no'?"

"I tried… but he wouldn't listen. He told me I needed to look my best in order to make a good impression on your peers."

"That's no reason to nearly strangle yourself. You could've very well _fainted_ from lack of air if it weren't for me and Heather."

"You know, Johanna's right." Heather chimed in. "Sure, beauty can be painful sometimes. I should know, but that doesn't mean it's okay to nearly kill yourself."

"Try telling _him_ that." Martha slumped forward and rested her chin in her hands.

Johanna stood up. "Why don't I talk to him tomorrow for you?"

Martha shot up. "What?! No! No, you can't! You have no idea what he's capable of, Johanna."

"I've handled things far worse. Trust me, he'll listen to me. Everyone listens to Johanna Starling. Just leave it to me, everything will be fine… And why don't you have the day off tomorrow?"

"The day off? No, no. You really don't have to do that."

"I know. But you deserve to rest. And when I'm done talking to him, I'll call you and tell you everything, okay?"

Martha paused and sighed. "…Okay. Thanks, Johanna."

"Any time, darlin'."


	6. August May-Who's True Colors

Johanna was sitting at her desk the next morning and looking through a book of previous Who Runway magazine covers when someone entered.

"Excuse me, Johanna. Your ten o'clock is here." Franklin said.

"Thank you, Franklin. Send him in." Johanna said, closing the binder.

Franklin left and Johanna looked up to see a short round man with graying hair and a stern look on his face. She cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

"You must be Johanna Starling." He said sternly.

"Yes. And you are?" She asked.

"Augustus May-Who, but everyone calls me August." The man answered.

"Oh? Oh! _You're_ August? I-I'm sorry. Have a seat."

"Thank you."

August pulled up a chair in front of Johanna's desk and sat down. Johanna twiddled her thumbs under her desk, trying to think of what to say; she didn't want to say anything that would offend him. He cleared his throat.

"What is all of this about, Mrs. Starling? And can we make this _quick_? I have an important council meeting at noon." He said.

"Yes, of course." Johanna said before sitting up straight and clearing her throat. "Mr. May-Who, you are aware that Martha May, your girlfriend and _my_ second assistant, attended the company benefit last night, yes?"

"I am." He nodded.

"Were you aware that she was wearing an unflattering black dress that was two sizes too small?"

August winced. "I was."

"Good, I'm glad you understand what I'm saying. And I just want to know…" Johanna's face went stern. "…did you tell her to wear it?"

He paused. "…What does it matter to you?"

"The wellbeing of my employees matters to me, Mr. May-Who." She furrowed her brow. "Last night, Martha May nearly swooned from lack of oxygen due to the dress that _you_ told her to wear. Not to mention those shoes she wore gave her unbelievable blisters. And I can honestly say that I couldn't bear to see a horrendous sight like that."

"Horrendous? What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that I am not going to stand idly by and watch any of my employees suffer in silence because of poor fashion choice and people like _you_." She sneered at him.

"People like me, eh?" He sneered back at her. "For your information, I have very good taste when it comes to fashion."

"Well, your actions speak otherwise."

"Martha May will do as I say exactly when I say it, understand?"

Johanna paused. "I've heard enough. Augustus May-Who, listen to me. If you continue to endanger Martha in any way possible, I'll have no choice but to call the police."

"What will the police do?"

"They can do anything. _Everyone_ listens to Johanna."

She smirked and reached out to grab her phone, only for August to violently grab her wrist and pull her closer to his face. Johanna froze.

"_You_, listen to _me_, Starling. Martha May is _mine_. I'm smart, you're dumb, I'm big, you're small, I'm _right_, you're _wrong_ and there's _nothing_ you can do about it. And if you ever interfere with my relationship with Martha May again, I will get a hold of your superiors and have them fire you from this magazine. After that, you will _never_ be able to work in this town again."

Johanna's eyes widened in shock and she almost gasped. "No. No, y-y-y-you can't."

"Oh yes, I _can_. And I _will_ if you don't do as I say."

Johanna tried to pry herself free, but August's grip on her wrist grew tighter and it started to really hurt.

"I'm going to call the police right now if you don't let go of me." She said, trying not to panic.

He reluctantly let go; she rubbed her wrist which was starting to turn red. "What would the police possibly do for _you_? It's my word against yours."

Johanna breathed; she couldn't think of what to say next.

"Now I don't care where you go or what you do, but if you do something like this again, there _will_ be consequences to your actions. So I suggest you do whatever I say, unless you want to end up on the streets."

"No! I mean, no… I'll do what you want."

"There's a good girl. And if you tell Martha any of this, you'll regret it until the end of your days." He gently patted her cheek with one hand before standing up and straightening his coat. He faked a smile. "Thank you for having me, Johanna, but I'm afraid I must be going. Have a nice day."

And with that, August walked out of the room, leaving Johanna completely flustered. The moment he was gone, Heather quietly snuck into her boss's office. Johanna ran a hand through her hair and heaved a heavy sigh.

"How much did you hear?" She asked, glancing up at Heather.

"I've heard enough." Heather replied. "You're not really going to give in to his demands, are you?"

"I don't know, Heather. I just don't know." Johanna buried her face in her hands as she set her head down on her desk. "I don't want anything bad to happen to Martha anymore, but I don't want Who Runway to suffer either."

"So what are you going to do?"

Johanna glanced over at the phone on her desk and grimaced.

0-0-0-0-0-0

"Oh, yeah…" Martha sighed, tying her bathrobe. She had just gotten out of the shower and she now felt refreshed. "Yes. I really needed this day off."

It was already five in the evening. She picked up the hair dryer and started drying her wet hair when her cell phone rang. Being curious, she picked it up and said,

"Hello?"

"Martha?" Johanna's voice answered back.

"Oh, Johanna. Hi." Martha said, sitting down on her bed. "So… how'd it go?"

"It… went good." Johanna lied, trying not to sound nervous.

"Really? That's good. Did August listen to you?"

"…He did."

"That's great. And you know what? I followed Heather's advice and decided to get him a gift. Not just one tie, but a whole case of ties. And they're custom made. Isn't that great?"

"That's… fantastic. So, I'll see you at work tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay. But just one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

Martha paused, but smiled. "I will. Thanks, Johanna."

"No problem. Bye."

"Bye."

She calmly hung up and set her phone down before continuing to dry her hair. After drying off, Martha got dressed, took the case of neckties, and went to the dining area. But as her back was turned, she heard the door open and close; she froze.

"Oh! You're home early!" She turned around to see August May-Who standing before her. "I-I didn't think you would be home so soon. I still had a lot to finish up. Like cooking and—"

"Cooking? No, this does not look like my dinner, Martha May…" August said, hanging his coat up on the nearby coat rack. He saw the box behind Martha's back. "What is that you're hiding behind your back?"

"Oh, this?" She picked up the case and showed it to him. "It's an early Christmas present. I-I wanted to get you something… nice." She offered the case to him; he slowly took it and opened it up to see over a dozen neckties inside in lots of different colors and styles. "I had some extra money saved up, and I wanted to surprise you with—"

"You're hiding money?"

"What?! N-no! I wasn't hiding it from you. I just had it stored for—"

"For what, Martha May? How did you even get the funds for these?" He ranted. "You're working some side common job under my nose, aren't you? Did you forget that I provide _everything_ you need? It's not enough that I work my fingers to the bone for us. No, you have to spit on that, working like a common woman."

She shrank under his words. "I just wanted to get you some new neckties. You've used those other few for so long. They just looked old, and I just thought—"

"That's always the problem with you, Martha May. You tend to think when it isn't your strongest feature. You're still the same, pathetic naïve girl I found. Just look at this garbage! Did you really think I would enjoy having this trash, cluttering up our home? That money could have been used for something else, something of worth! Do you even know how much this beautiful house costs? To live in this city?! Of course you don't! Just like you can't fathom what it would mean if you were seen purchasing this! Did you tell anybody who you were getting this for? The last thing we need is for anyone in my circle finding out that you and I are…" August sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You weren't thinking, per usual. You never do."

Martha hung her head; her eyes glued to the floor. "No… I wasn't thinking. I should've told you about the money. I'm sorry, August. I didn't mean to upset you, I just… I wanted to do something special for you."

"Something 'special'? Do you even know how stupid that sounds? I already told you what I expect of you, and trash like this is nowhere on the list! You're supposed to stay at home and enjoy all of this! You literally have everything you could ever want! Why do you continuously disregard my wishes!?"

She took a step back. "August, please, I didn't mean to make you mad. It was just a gift!"

"Just a gift?! These useless shreds of fabric could have cost us our future! I've worked too hard to let some old, bigoted elected officials take away everything I have labored over because of your incompetence!"

August closed the case and gripped it tight in both hands, offended by the touch of such rough hewn filth against his flesh. He slowly raised the box over his head; Martha took a weary step back.

"Wait, August? What are you doing? No! Put that down!" She exclaimed before he hurled the tie case at her chest. But luckily, she moved out of the way just before it could hit her.

The box shattered on contact with the floor and every single tie scattered as August paused and his vision shifted to red. She gasped.

"I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to move out of the way, I swear. I know what you said, I just— Oof!"

Martha was suddenly cut off by the strike of a hand across her face. Her legs buckled and she struck the floor with a meaty thump; she held the cheek that stung with the hit. She defensively curled into a fetal position as she whimpered in pain.

"I'm sorry, please August… I just wanted to make today special, I promise I'll never do it again!" She cried, trying to back away from him.

"Oh, but I know you're going to do this again." August said darkly. "You never learn, you never see the whole picture… and I think it's about time I finally made you realize it!"


	7. Confronting Martha

The next morning, Martha came into work wearing a pair of rather large sunglasses as well as a long fuzzy scarf and she hardly took them off, especially while she was inside. She also didn't talk to anyone, she couldn't; she just kept her focus on her work for most of the day. Before she could go off to lunch, Martha was called into Johanna's office for a private conversation.

"Yes, Johanna?" She asked.

"Martha, I need to tell you something _very_ important." Johanna sighed. "But first… what's with those sunglasses? It's cloudy out… and it's winter."

"Oh, these? I-I was just, um…"

"And a scarf? _Inside_? Really?"

"Oh. Uh, um…"

Rolling her eyes, Johanna stood up from her desk and reached out to take the scarf and glasses off but Martha backed away. Refusing to give up, Johanna forcefully yanked the glasses and scarf away and what she saw made her gasp in horror. Martha had a black eye and there was a small healing cut on her left cheek.

"Martha, what happened?!" Johanna exclaimed before realizing something. "…Did _he_ do that to you? …He hurt you, didn't he?"

Martha froze. "How did you…?"

Johanna sighed again. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For lying. On the phone yesterday, I told you everything was fine when in reality… it wasn't. Not at all."

"What did he say to you?"

Johanna went back to her desk. "May-Who said that if I even attempt to interfere again, he'd call my superiors and have me fired from Who Runway. I'll never work in this city again if that happens."

"What? No, he can't get you fired!"

"Apparently, he _can_ and he _will_ if I don't do as he says."

Martha paused and looked at her boss with a look of pure remorse. "I am so sorry, Johanna."

"No, Martha. It's _me_ who should be sorry. _I'm_ the one who lied to you." Johanna slumped back into her chair and ran a hand through her platinum blonde locks.

"Only because of August's threat. I shouldn't have even mentioned him. I wasn't thinking, as usual… just like he says. I really _am_ just a dumb redhead."

"What? No! Martha, you are _not_ dumb. You're probably the smartest girl I've ever hired; a place like this really needs more people like you."

"But… but I don't even _want_ this job."

Johanna's eyes nearly popped at this statement. "W-w-w-what?"

"You heard me." Martha clenched her fists and looked away.

"But… I don't understand. Why did you apply for this job if you didn't even want it?"

"You want to know?"

"Yes."

"You _really_ want to know? Are you _sure_ you want to know?"

"Yes, just tell me already!"

"Well… August made me."

Johanna paused. "How can you live like that? In this state of constant fear and pain?"

"I've dealt with it for the past _three_ years, Johanna… and there's nothing I can do about it."

"But you need help."

"But if I even try to reach out to someone else, August will be furious."

"Martha, you cannot live like this anymore."

"Johanna, I don't know any other way."

"You have to leave!"

"No, I can't! If I do, Augustus will have MY HEAD! Do you really want THAT conscience?!" Martha pounded her fist on the desk, causing her boss to jump back in shock.

The room went deathly silent. Johanna stared at Martha in pure shock for a good minute or two before sighing.

"Just… think, okay?" She begged.

"…Fine." Martha whimpered.

"You can go on your lunch."

Martha nodded and walked out of the office, leaving Johanna alone with her thoughts.

'If I go to the police, it really will be _my_ word against _his_. What am I going to do?' She pondered.


	8. The Promotion

The next day, Martha used makeup to cover the cut on her cheek, but she couldn't conceal the black eye so she had to deal with it. In the cafeteria, she sadly stared at her food, not even bothering to touch it. Franklin suddenly came in and slowly went over to her table.

"Is something wrong?" He asked. "You hardly touched anything on your plate."

"I don't wanna talk, Franklin." Martha muttered.

"Eating will help."

"Leave me alone."

"Not until I see you eat something."

Martha rolled her eyes, dipped her grilled cheese sandwich in her bowl of tomato soup, and reluctantly took a bite.

"Happy now?" She asked with her mouth full.

"Yes." Franklin said, a little grossed out at the sight before noticing the black eye. "Martha, dear, what happened to your eye?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Franklin." Martha argued, swallowing her bite of sandwich; she held back tears.

Franklin kept quiet; he knew better than to pry any further.

Back at the office, Martha sat at her desk in silence. But she wasn't working on anything; no, she was looking at something in her lap beneath her desk. Heather suddenly came back with a small stack of papers. She glanced in Martha's direction and sneered before going over and taking what was in Martha's hands.

"Hey! Give it back!" Martha cried.

"Not until you tell me what _this_ is." Heather hissed, holding up the framed photo of Martha and the Grinch together. "What is this green thing? When was this taken? And why do you look so happy with it?"

"He is NOT a thing." Martha snapped, snatching the photo from her co-worker. "He is the _Grinch_… he's my _friend_."

"Your _friend_? _That_? You can't be serious." Heather scoffed.

"I _am_ serious, Heather." Martha sat back down and sighed. "He and I met when I was a little girl. It was Christmastime and my parents and I were on vacation in Whoville."

It was then that Martha told Heather the entire story. She told her of how she first met the Grinch, how he saved her, and every encounter she had with him, including the time he helped her during the Christmas Pageant when that very picture was taken. Heather was taken aback; she honestly couldn't fathom how and why Martha could care for this thing.

"After that Christmas, my folks and I went back home and I never saw him again." Martha sighed, gazing at the picture sadly.

"…Have you ever tried going back?" Heather asked.

"I begged my parents to go back to Whoville when I was in middle school, but they always refused. They said that they can't afford a big vacation like that anymore, especially during the holiday season and I guess that _is_ pretty understandable. But when I reached my senior year high school, I stopped asking."

"But… you're a grown woman now. You can make your own decisions."

"So?"

"_So_ you can go back to Whoville whenever you want."

"Believe me, I tried… and August wouldn't have any of it."

Heather grimaced at the mention of August May-Who; she somehow knew he would have something to do with this.

"Girls?" Johanna's voice called.

Heather and Martha looked at each other before reluctantly heading into Johanna's office. She gave them a look they couldn't quite decipher.

"I need to tell you girls something very important." She began. "You know about Fashion Week in Thneedville next spring, right?"

They nodded.

"Good. Because I made a pretty big decision." She paused. "…I need you _both_ to come with me."

The two girls looked at each other, then back at their employer in shock and confusion.

"But I thought only the first assistant went to Fashion Week with you." Martha said.

"Well, I wanted to do something different this time. And Martha, if you're going to be working here… this place going to need some serious changes." Johanna replied.

"Changes? Like what?" Heather nervously asked.

"First of all… we need to make this place feel more like Christmas. Meaning, this place needs _decorations_. Not just for Christmas, but for _all_ holidays. And Martha is pretty coordinated and streetwise when it comes to decorating and organizing. So, Martha… you are now Who Runway's head decorator and fashion consultant."

"_Me_?" Martha asked.

"What?! That's not fair!" Heather argued. "I've been here _far_ longer than _she_ has!"

Johanna glared at her before Heather went quiet. "But it's all up to you, Martha. Decorating for Christmas would be right up your alley. What do you say? You wanna give it a try?"

Martha stood in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. She didn't like working here, but she absolutely loved to decorate for the holiday season. And helping bring Christmas spirit to this boring, egotistical place seemed like a fantastic opportunity to start a new change in her life. She looked back at Johanna.

"I'll take it." She said.

"You will? Great!" Johanna practically cheered and shook Martha's hand. "You can start right away, if you want."

"Okay, whatever works." Martha smirked and shrugged her shoulders as she went to her desk to pick up her things.

Johanna handed her a large wad of cash. "Okay, I need you to go get as many decorations you can buy with this, enough to make everyone in this building feel enough holiday cheer to last until _next_ Christmas. Can you do that?"

"I can try."

"That's the spirit. Now get going; you've got a _lot_ of work to do."

"Okay, but I'm expecting _some_ kind of help when I get back."

"Of course." Johanna nodded before Martha left.

Heather stared at her boss with wide eyes.

"You asked Martha to _decorate_? For _Christmas_?" She asked. "We haven't done that in years."

"I know." Johanna answered. "But if Martha's going to be staying here, we need to make it feel like a place she'd want to work. And that means making some changes… including make this place feel like Christmas."

0-0-0-0-0-0

A few hours had passed and Martha had returned with all of the Christmas decorations she can carry. As soon as she made it back, she immediately set to work. She strung up multi-colored lights, put up a few fake trees (green and white), hung sparkling ornaments, and added figures of snowmen, reindeer, and even a Santa Claus or two. It took a long time, but in the end, she felt it was worth it. Franklin, Heather, and Johanna gawked at Martha and the courtyard in awe; they could hardly believe what they were seeing.

"…How?" Heather asked.

"When it comes to Christmas, I always know what to do." Martha proudly replied.

"I must say, Martha, I am… _very_ impressed. And I don't impress easily. Well done." Johanna said, slowly clapping her hands.

"Thanks, Johanna. Oh! I almost forgot." Martha said before giving a whistle. "Okay, you can come out now." Then, as if on cue, a group of teenagers came in. "After all, what would Christmas be without some Christmas carolers?"

"You… really went all out for this, didn't you Martha?" Franklin asked.

"What can I say? It's how I roll." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Don't worry, folks. We don't work for money or fame." One of the kids said, stepping forward. "We only sing to spread Christmas cheer and joy. And luckily, Martha May here has taught us the perfect song."

Martha smiled and turned around to face the kids; she raised a hand above her head. "Ready, everyone?"

They nodded before one of them took out a CD player and pushed a button that started to play. Then, they all began to sing with Martha at the lead.

"_Oooh, ahhh…_" They started.

"_Fahoo fores, dahoo dores_

_Welcome Christmas, come this way_

_Fahoo fores, dahoo dores_

_Welcome Christmas, Christmas day_

_Welcome, welcome fahoo ramus_

_Welcome, welcome dahoo damus_

_Christmas day is in our grasp_

_So long as we have hands to clasp_

_Fahoo fores, dahoo dores_

_Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer_

_Fahoo fores, dahoo dores_

_Welcome all Whos far and near_

_Welcome Christmas, fahoo ramus_

_Welcome Christmas, dahoo damus_

_Christmastime will always be_

_Just as long as we have glee_

_Fahoo fores, dahoo dores_

_Welcome Christmas, bring your light_

_Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh…_"

Franklin, Johanna, and Heather could only stare at Martha in awe, unable to find the right words.

"Is this what Christmas is supposed to feel like?" Heather whispered to Franklin.

"I have no idea… but it's beautiful." Franklin muttered.

"It is, it really is…" Johanna added, a tear rolled down her cheek.

Martha smiled as she sang; for the first time in a long time, she felt true Christmas joy. Right now, she felt nothing could possibly ruin this moment for her…


	9. In Thneedville

Months passed. Christmas was over and spring was in the air. Martha was still working at Who Runway, but she wasn't too happy about it. She knew exactly what was coming up: Fashion Week in Thneedville. She would much rather stay at home curled up with a good book, but she also knew that she had to be there for Johanna's sake.

The day came and Martha absolutely dreaded it. She packed up some of her things along with a lot of things for work, but before she could close her last suitcase, August approached her.

"And just where do you think _you're_ off to?" He asked.

Martha didn't turn around. "I have to meet Johanna and Heather at the airport in a few hours. She wants me to go to Thneedville with her for Fashion Week."

"Thneedville, eh?" August echoed. "Oh, yes! Yes, now I remember. You know, I heard that place is practically paradise. Everything is plastic and fake, simply gorgeous. Just exquisite, don't you agree?"

'Oh, gag…' She thought with a shiver.

"Isn't that the place where you have to BUY fresh air?" She asked.

"Yes. Aren't you excited?"

"Uh… yeah, sure."

'Me? _Excited_?! Not in a million, trillion, bazillion years! I've been _dreading_ this trip since I first got this promotion.'

"That's good." August went over to her and shut the suitcase for her; he handed it to Martha along with the rest of her luggage. "Now you shouldn't let me keep you here any longer." He started to push Martha to the front door. "Johanna is waiting for you. You don't want to be late or keep her waiting, do you?"

"No, of course not." Martha quickly said.

"Then get going!" He opened the door and pushed her out. "I'll see you in a week. Have a good time, my Little Flower."

And with that, August slammed the door right in Martha's face. She sighed and furrowed her brow.

"Please don't call me that anymore." She muttered as she took her bags and went over to the elevator.

At the airport, Johanna and Heather were patiently waiting for Martha to arrive. And she soon did.

"Martha, there you are." Johanna said, checking her watch.

"Let me guess; I'm late." Martha commented.

"On the contrary, dear. You're right on time."

"I _am_? That's a new one."

"But that's good. Our flight is about to leave in an hour. Come on, girls. Let's get to our seats."

"Yes, Johanna." Martha and Heather said in unison, grabbing their bags and following Johanna to their plane.

The flight was rather long and Heather seemed to be very excited. Martha on the other hand was bored out of her mind; she tried to keep her mind off of things by reading a book, but it was no use. She couldn't focus on the story; she could only think about Thneedville and what would happen. Then, the plane landed. Martha rolled her eyes and departed with Heather and Johanna in front of her. The moment she stepped into Thneedville, Martha couldn't believe what she was seeing.

This town wasn't as bad as she first thought… it was WORSE. Every towering building in sight seemed to be made of metal or plastic, maybe both; there were odd looking cars and vehicles that looked very unsafe, the trees were nothing but metal husks with giant light bulbs for leaves, the bushes were inflatable, the flowers and insects weren't even real, the entire city was surrounded by a huge wall, and there were trucks with "O'Hare" printed on them driving around with empty containers. That must've been the company that sold fresh air to everyone here. Martha cringed at the sight; she could hardly believe that she was going to stay here for an entire week.

"Martha, I know how you feel about this place, but you're just going to have to deal with it, at least for the week. We _all_ have to." Johanna said. "Right, Heather?"

Heather was staring starry-eyed at the city before her until she quickly composed herself and looked back at her boss. "Yes, of course, Johanna."

"Johanna Starling and company!" A man in a pristine pale blue tuxedo called out; he holding up a sign with Johanna's name on it and was standing in front of a white limousine with sixteen wheels.

"Oooh, I _love_ limousines!" Heather said excitedly.

"A limo? With _sixteen_ wheels? …That is not natural." Martha muttered before she and her colleagues went over to the man.

"You must be here to take us to our hotel." Johanna said.

"Yes, ma'am. Hop on in." The man said, opening the limo door.

"Come on, girls." Johanna ordered before she, Heather, and Martha climbed in. The man took their luggage and out it in another part of the vehicle closer to the front before they drove off to the hotel.

At the hotel, Heather and Martha were sharing a room while Johanna had her own private suite. Heather wasn't too happy about this situation, but Martha seemed fine with it. She had a roommate back in college, how different can sharing a hotel room be?

"I'm going to take a shower." Heather said.

"Okay, then. I'll be out here if you need me." Martha said before her co-worker went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

When she was alone, Martha went to the balcony. She looked out at the town in silence, unsure what to say or think about any of this. She heard a door open in the room and footsteps approach.

"Martha?" Johanna's voice asked.

"Hi, Johanna." Martha answered.

The fashion icon stood beside the redhead and gazed out on the town with her.

"…I know your views on this town and I don't blame you. I can't stand this place either." She said.

Martha's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Of course. At least Who York has _real_ living plants and animals, not like this place. Plus, paying for fresh air is wrong and just plain stupid. And the mayor AND founder of O'Hare Air, Aloysius O'Hare himself, is nothing but a short, greedy, ol' tightwad."

Martha giggled.

"No, I'm serious. Aloysius is a pretty bad person, believe me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he and August May-Who are somewhat the same."

"I'm sorry, but I'll believe it when I see it."

"I don't blame you for that either. You've never even met him. But he'll be there during Fashion Week, which starts tomorrow night I might add. So be prepared."

"Okay."

Johanna smiled.


	10. An Incident at Fashion Week

Fashion Week had just begun and all of Thneedville was abuzz with activity. Pretty much every fashion designer, fashion model, and fashion icon known in the Land of Seuss was there and everyone was having a great time… well, almost everyone. Martha May wasn't having much fun at all; she wore a silvery white cocktail dress, only this time it wasn't so tight, along with a pair of gray stilettos and her hair put up into a tight bun just like at the benefit.

She sat next to Johanna as she watched the fashion show, which lasted for a total of two hours, and then came the after party. To everyone else, it was a smash; but to Martha, it was more boring than a complete guide to the Dewey Decimal System followed by a six-hour documentary on the History of Yarn. She stood with Heather and Johanna, trying not to look bored.

"Isn't this great, Martha?" Heather asked, unaware of Martha's apparent discomfort.

"Not really, no." Martha muttered, faking a smile.

Johanna turned to her and said, "Why don't you go get us some punch? Just so you won't have to stand here all night."

"Okay, Johanna." Martha said as she went over to the refreshments table.

"Where's she going?" Heather asked.

"She's getting some punch." Johanna said before tensing up; as she watched Martha walking towards the punch bowl, she saw a certain someone heading towards her. "…Oh no."

Martha stood at the punch bowl and filled three glasses, but before she could walk away, she stopped and gawked at the food on the table in front of her. Everything was fake, nothing was real; it almost looked like gelatin.

'Seriously? How could anybody ever call any of _this_ edible?' She thought. 'No Who Pudding? No rare Who Roast Beast? No moose juice or goose juice? No stash of Who Hash? No slew of Beezlenut Stew?! How can anyone possibly indulge in these artificial, practically _radioactive_ sludge balls these people call food?!'

She then felt someone tap her left thigh. She jumped and looked to see a very short man with a stupid looking haircut and wearing a pale gray suit. He was giving her a devilish smile.

"Um, can I help you?" She asked.

"Somebody get me a glass, because I just found myself a very tall drink of water." The man said, trying to sound suave.

Martha grimaced; she had no idea who this man was and he was really giving her the creeps. "Uh… no." She slinked past him and quickly headed over to Johanna with the glasses of punch in hand.

He sneered.

"Here you go, Johanna. You too, Heather." Martha handed Johanna and Heather a cup before taking a nervous sip from her own.

"Thanks." Heather said as she took a sip.

"You don't know who that was, do you?" Johanna whispered into Martha's ear.

"You saw that?" Martha nervously asked.

"Sure did. That was Aloysius O'Hare."

"It was?"

"Yeah. And he doesn't look too happy. Oh, here he comes." The three girls stood straight as Mr. O'Hare came up to them with two large, beefy bodyguards.

"Ah, Johanna Starling. I'm so glad you could make it. It's so nice to see you again." He said, offering his hand to her.

"It's… nice to see you too, Aloysius." Johanna said as she shook his hand, struggling to sound calm.

Mr. O'Hare glanced up at Martha. "So, aren't you going to introduce us?" He raised his eyebrows at the nervous redhead.

"Oh, this is Martha May." Johanna answered. "She's… my new Fashion Consultant, as well as the company decorator."

"_Decorator_? For what? Parties?" O'Hare scoffed.

"She decorates the office for holidays and special occasions. Last Christmas, she went _all_ out. Trees, lights, carolers, everything. And I must say that I was _very_ impressed."

"Really? That's a new one. You're _never_ impressed, Johanna."

"Well, what can I say? Martha May is… full of surprises."

"You know, Martha May is such a beautiful name." O'Hare took a few steps closer to Martha, which only made her more uncomfortable than she already was.

"I have a boyfriend." Martha quickly said, taking a step away from the small man; she was glad she could finally use that to her advantage.

"Oh… that's a shame." O'Hare said, trying not to sound angry. He snapped his fingers and one of his bodyguards handed Martha a small plastic bottle with O'Hare written on it in big bold letters. "Have a breath of fresh air." He winked at her. "It's on me."

"Uh… thanks?" Martha said uneasily, looking at the bottle in confusion; it was a simple, empty plastic bottle.

Heather nudged her in the ribs and whispered in her ear, "It's a bottle of fresh air. _Don't_ take it for granted."

"…Okay, then."

It was then that two women approached the group. One was slim with fair skin, almond-shaped hazel eyes, and short jet black hair and wearing a deep red cocktail dress and the other had a slightly bigger frame with darker skin, gray eyes, and braided brown hair and wearing an auburn dress with a slightly longer skirt. Johanna turned her head and smiled at them.

"Ah, Esmeralda, Desiree. How lovely to see you again." Johanna said, shaking their hands. "I was starting to think you wouldn't be able to come this time."

"Are you joking, Johanna?" The woman in the red dress, Esmeralda, said with a laugh.

"We wouldn't miss this for the world." Desiree added.

"So how've things been for you girls?" Johanna asked.

Martha stood next to Johanna in silence before she felt something big behind her. Then she felt she was being pushed away from Johanna and Heather; she looked and saw it was Mr. O'Hare's bodyguards. They were leading her away from the party and she had no idea why.

"Uh, excuse me? What are you doing?" She nervously asked. "Where are you taking me? What is going on?"

The guards pushed her to another corner on the other side of the room where nobody can see what was really going on. They looked down at her and stepped aside to reveal Mr. O'Hare approach her. Martha took a step back.

"Mr. O'Hare? What's going on?" She asked. "Johanna is going to wonder where I am."

"Not really." O'Hare answered. "She'll be talking with those girls for a while. From what I can tell, they'll have a LOT of catching up to do." He scooted closer to her and gave her a sly smile. "So, you say you have a boyfriend, huh?"

"Uh, yes. I do."

"And does he know you're out here with Johanna?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't he come with you?"

"He has important work back in Who York. Plus, he wasn't invited."

"Ah, I see." He gently nudged her in the leg with his elbow, which made her even more nervous than before. "Since your boyfriend's not here, why don't _you_ and _I_ get a little…" His guards lifted him up so he was at eye-level with Martha. "…close?"

This made Martha grimace in shock, horror, and disgust. She took a few steps back, nearly dropping her bottle of air in the process.

"Are you out of your mind?!" She screamed. "NO! Not in a million lifetimes!"

Martha's sudden outburst had caused most of the guests turn their heads in her direction, including Johanna and Heather's, but Martha didn't seem to care. O'Hare paused before his shocked expression slowly twisted into an angry snarl; Martha furrowed her brow, folded her arms, and glared at him as he was placed back on to the floor.

"Listen to me, missy." He hissed, waddling closer to her. "You've just made the _biggest_ mistake of your life. If you ever do something this stupid again, I'll be your worst nightmare. I'm Frankenstein's head on a spider's body!"

Martha scoffed. "Do you seriously believe that's going to scare me? I've seen and felt worse."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes. And just for the record, Whoville is a _much_ better place to live than Thneedville will _ever_ be."

"_Whoville_? You mean that dingy, dirty, remote town in the mountains way up north? You're joking. Why would anyone want to live up _there_?"

"Because everything there is real and everyone is genuinely happy. Oh! And one more thing, Mr. O'Hare." She picked up a stray cup of punch from behind her. "…I'd rather kiss a diseased webbed-footed batula than _you_ ANY DAY." She splashed the cup of punch into O'Hare's face and stomped down hard onto his foot before storming off.

O'Hare cried out in surprise and pain as everyone in the room gasped in shock. Johanna and Heather watched as Martha briskly walked away from everyone and out the door, unable to figure out what just transpired.

"What was that all about?" Desiree asked.

"Someone's either having a bad night or being a poor sport." Esmeralda commented.

Heather and Johanna looked at each other in confusion and remained silent, not sure of how to respond.


	11. Meeting Audrey and Talking About Trees

By now, Martha had walked so far that she could only see the lights coming from the recreation center. She was tired and decided to sit down and rest; she sat down on the sidewalk and looked at the plastic bottle in her hand. She reluctantly opened it and was greeted by a wind of pure, fresh air; she relaxed before the bottle emptied itself.

"My first time in Thneedville and I _already_ cause an incident. What are the odds?" She muttered with an empty chuckle. "At least I got away from that pint-sized cretin; what a pervert. Ugh! I hope I _never_ come back here after this. This place is the _worst_."

It was then that Martha began to sing to herself, a song she wanted to hear more than anything right now.

"_Fahoo fores, dahoo dores_" She lamented.

"_Welcome Christmas, come this way_

_Fahoo fores, dahoo dores_

_Welcome Christmas, Christmas day_

_Welcome, welcome fahoo ramus_

_Welcome, welcome dahoo damus_

_Christmas day is in our grasp_

_So long as we have hands to clasp_

_Fahoo fores, dahoo do_

_Welcome home, welcome home, welcome home…"_

She started to cry.

"Are you okay?" An unfamiliar voice asked.

Martha jumped and turned around to see a little girl with red hair and wearing a sea foam green night shirt and yellow pajama pants and socks standing before her. Martha wiped her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She said, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. "Am I bothering you?"

"No. I couldn't sleep, that's all. What are you doing out here?"

"I needed to be alone."

"But you're _not_ alone. I'm here. But I can leave if you want."

"What? Oh, no. You don't have to leave. I'll… be glad for the company." Martha gently patted the sidewalk with her right hand and the little girl hesitantly sat down next to her.

"What's your name?" The girl asked.

"I'm Martha May." Martha answered.

"That's a pretty name."

"Thank you. What's _your_ name?"

"I'm Audrey."

"It's nice to meet you, Audrey."

"Nice to meet you, too." They shook hands before Audrey noticed the dress Martha was wearing. "That's a pretty dress."

"Oh, this?" Martha looked at her outfit and smirked. "Thanks."

"Did you just come from the Rec Center?"

"Yeah. That's where Fashion Week is being held."

"Fashion Week?" Audrey's eyes suddenly lit up. "Wow, I've always wanted to go to Fashion Week! What's it like? Did you have a good time? What was your favorite thing about it?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down, sweetie. Slow down." Martha breathed as the little girl calmed down. "To answer your questions… I wasn't having fun at all."

"You weren't? What happened?"

Martha paused, trying to convey her message in a way a girl as young as this would understand. "…I'm guessing you know all about Mr. O'Hare?" Audrey nodded. "I figured. Well you see, Mr. O'Hare… he, um… he tried to _kiss_ me. But I already have a boyfriend, so… yeah."

"Why would Mr. O'Hare kiss you if you already have a boyfriend?"

"I don't know. But I told him I would never kiss him before splashing punch in his face, stepping down hard on his foot, and leaving the Rec Center. And I think I might've drawn a little attention to myself, but I don't care. I just want to go home."

"Isn't Thneedville your home?"

"No. I'm from Who York City… though I'd much rather leave more than anything."

"Well… where would you go?"

"…Whoville."

"Whoville?"

"Yeah. Since I am already a Who."

"You are? I hadn't noticed. Have you ever been to Whoville before?"

"Only once, when I was only a few years older than you. Some of my favorite childhood memories were made there and I've seen and done so much… I even met someone. He was my best friend, he did so much for me and I didn't want to imagine a life without him. But the day after Christmas, my parents and I left and I never saw him again." Martha sighed and took her framed photo out of her purse.

Audrey scooted closer and took a closer look at the photo. She saw a younger Martha dressed in a purple and pink tutu and she was hugging a green furry creature that was wearing a white suit and a matching soldier's cap.

"Is that your friend?" She asked.

"Yeah. His name was Grinch." Martha replied.

"Do you miss him?"

"Each and every day."

"Well, why don't you go visit him?"

"I want to visit, more than anything, but… I can't. Besides, I doubt he'd recognize me after all these years."

Audrey paused; she had no idea what to say now. "…What's it like in Whoville?"

"It's beautiful. The people are so friendly, there are lots of things to do, and everything there is real… unlike this place."

"What do you mean 'real'?"

"I mean… the plants, trees, and animals are _real_. They're all… alive."

"Trees? …What kinds of trees are there? In the world, I mean."

"There are all kinds of trees. Oaks, pines, birches, willows, spruces, dogwoods, maples, palms, and there are even Truffula tree."

"Truffula trees? What do they look like?"

It was then that Martha told Audrey everything she knew about Truffula trees. She said that they had striped white bark and the touch of their tufts was softer than anything, even silk, and they even smelled sweet like butterfly milk. She also said that real trees of any kind can make pure fresh air… for FREE and they can grow almost anywhere in the world and they even grew all around Thneedville, many years ago. Audrey was enchanted by Martha's words; she had no idea about the wonders nature really had and she wanted to learn more.

"Wow… How come you know so much?" Audrey asked.

"I took a botany class in high school, as well as a horticulture class." Martha replied. "But that's beside the point. Here's a picture of some Truffula trees, just to give you a good idea of what they really look like." She handed Audrey a photo of a valley filled with Truffula trees and the little girl gasped in wonder. "I took this picture for a class project a few years back. You can keep it if you want."

"Really?" Audrey exclaimed.

"Of course. The people who know about trees, the merrier." Martha smiled.

"Thank you, Martha May." The girl cried before wrapping her arms around Martha in a hug; she hugged her back.

"You're welcome." Martha said as they split; Audrey yawned. "Tired?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go back to bed." Audrey said as she stood up. "I hope everything turns out okay for you."

"Thanks. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

And with that, Audrey ran back into her house, leaving Martha alone once again. Martha looked at her watch and saw that it was pretty late so she decided to head back to the hotel.

0-0-0-0-0-0

It was almost 2:00 in the morning when Heather and Johanna returned to their hotel. But when they arrived, Martha was still awake, waiting for them.

"Top of the evening to ya." She said as she turned the lamp light on.

"Martha!" Johanna and Heather exclaimed in surprise.

"How long have you been sitting there?" Johanna asked.

"Not long." Martha replied. "How was Fashion Week?"

"It was good. We had a great time." Heather answered as she sat down on her own bed. "But where in the world have you been?"

"I left."

"But… why?" Johanna asked as she took off her coat. "Mr. O'Hare said you had a breakdown and stormed off."

"And you believed him? Yes, I stormed of… only _after_ he tried to get with me."

Johanna paused. "…He _what_?"

"You heard me." Martha snapped. "He even tried to _kiss_ me. That little creep, ugh."

"…Martha, I am so sorry. I never would've asked you to come if I knew something like this would happen."

"No, it's okay. I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be. This is what I've been trying to say. You need to leave this life."

"No! Don't you see? I can't! If I do _anything_ that goes against August's wishes, which includes quitting Who Runway, I'm as good as dead."

"Clearly Thneedville is NOT the place for you. Tell you what, I'll buy you a plane ticket out of here and you can go back to Who York. Maybe you can stay with your parents until the end of the week. That way, August will never have to know that you left early."

Martha's eyes widened and she looked at her superior in shock. "You'd do that?"

"You've done so much for me; it only seems fair to return the favor in some way."

"…Thank you, Johanna."


	12. A Week Later

A week went by quickly. Martha was about to leave her parents' home when someone stopped her.

"Do you have to go so soon, sissy?" Two little blonde girls said, tugging on Martha's leg.

"Sorry, girls, but I have to go back to work tomorrow." Martha said.

"Your sister's right." Felicity said as she and Mortimer walked towards their eldest.

"Though we wish you could stay with us a little longer." Mortimer said as he picked up the two five-year-olds.

"Me too." Martha said, picking up her bags.

"But you never told us what happened in Thneedville." Felicity chimed in.

"How was it?" One girl said.

"Yeah, did you enjoy it?" The second added.

"June, Joy, don't be rude." Mortimer gently scolded.

"It's okay." Martha sighed and shook her head. "But to be honest… no, I didn't enjoy it. It wasn't all that fun. But I'd rather not talk about it." She picked up her bags. "I gotta go."

"Martha, what's wrong?" Felicity asked, grabbing her eldest daughter's arm.

"Nothing, I-I'm fine." Martha lied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"If there's anything bothering you, you know you can—"

"I said I'm _fine_!" The room went silent. Felicity stared at her daughter in shock; Martha paused and frowned. "I have to go. I'll talk to you guys later."

And with that, Martha grabbed her bags and briskly headed out the door.

"What was that?" June and Joy asked, looking up at their father.

"I don't know, girls." Mortimer replied. "What do you think, honey? Honey?"

"Mommy?" The little girls asked in unison.

Felicity was the only one who remained silent. She knew Martha; it certainly wasn't like her to lash out like that. Something was _definitely_ wrong.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Martha arrived at the house a few hours before August would be home for dinner. That gave her enough time to put away her luggage, clean herself up, put on different clothes, and cook dinner for the two of them. Simple enough, right? Right.

As quickly as possible, she took a shower, put on a new outfit, and tried to cook a meal August would approve of. But just as she finished setting the table, August came home and he looked rather tired.

"Hello, August." Martha said.

"Hello, my little flower." August said, kissing her hand. "How was Thneedville?"

Martha paused. "…Just fabulous."

"Good." August hung his coat and hat on the coat rack before noticing the meal laid out on the table. "You've been busy."

"Everything has to be perfect, just how you like it."

"Hmm, almost. But I'll let it slide. Now let's eat."

Martha sighed in relief to herself as she and August sat down.

"So, how was work?" She asked, picking up her glass.

"Tiring, but productive." August replied. "You know, my flower, I realized something at work today."

"Oh?"

"Yes. In fact, someone at work suggested this to me. They say I do such a good job that I should run for _mayor_."

Martha froze and nearly choked on her drink. "M-m-m-m-mayor?"

"That's right. Mayor." August smiled. "Is it a marvelous idea or what?"

Martha remained silent; she thought August being mayor of Who York was a _horrible_ idea. She knew all too well that if he was in charge of everything, the city would suffer… just like her. She looked back at her boyfriend, unsure of what to say.

"I knew it; you're so happy, you're speechless." August declared.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just… elections happen in November. Is this not late _April_?" Martha asked.

"Yes, but that's the beauty of it. True, I missed the official elections, but elected officials can be recalled, impeached, given the boot. And when that happens, they'll think of _me_ and _only_ me filling the void."

"But-but, um…"

"But how will the original mayor get impeached? I've already got a plan for that."

"A plan?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid that it is classified information and I cannot tell you, my sweet. I'm sorry for that."

For some reason, Martha was both relieved and frightened when she hear this information; she didn't want to hear about the plan, but she had no idea what to expect from any of this.

"Well, that's all I have to say." August said. "Now… care to tell me what _you've_ been up to lately, my little flower?"

"I-I… what?"

"I know you didn't stay in Thneedville. I know you left early and stayed with your parents the rest of the week." His smile slowly turned into a small frown and he narrowed his eyes at her.

Martha dropped her glass, which shattered on the floor. "I'm sure I don't—"

"Don't even _try_ lying to me." August got up from his chair. "You and I both know you can _never_ fool me. No matter what you try to do, I will _always_ find out the truth."

'Oh no…'

0-0-0-0-0-0

The next morning, Martha sat at her desk in her new office, trying hard not to think about the new bruises gracing her face and arms. The night before was kind of a blur, but she vividly remembered crashing sounds and August's rage. Oh, she could never forget his awful temper; she knew he had to learn how to control it, but he won't listen to anyone. He wouldn't even listen to Johanna when she told him to stop hurting her. August was truly a toxic person, not just for Martha, but for everyone else too. Now he was planning on running for mayor. And if he won the election… then everyone will be in trouble.

"Miss Whovier?" A voice said.

Martha nearly jumped out of her seat in surprise. She turned her head to see a young girl with short brown hair and wearing a yellow dress standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee and a small box of donuts.

"Oh! Hello, Brittney." Martha said, calming down.

"I brought you the donuts and coffee you wanted." The girl, Brittney, set the cup and box on the desk in front of Martha. "Will there be anything else?"

"Uh, no. No, that's alright. Thank you." Martha said.

"Yes, ma'am." Brittney said before briskly walking out of the room.

Martha was left alone again; she reluctantly opened the box of donuts, took one out, and took a bite. She slowly chewed, thinking about what August said after that tantrum.

He said, 'You should be lucky to be part of Who Runway. Why are you always so ungrateful? If you even think about quitting, I swear I will turn your life into a living nightmare… if I haven't done that already.'

Martha's eyes watered and her lower lip quivered before she buried her face in her hands and started to sob. As of now, she felt there was nothing she could do now…


	13. Years Go By

Years went by and Martha still worked at Who Runway, pretty much doing the same thing each and every day. It was fun at first, but now she just felt like she was in a rut… an excruciating and horrible rut she couldn't get out of, no matter how hard she tried. And all she wanted to do was leave.

Martha May was now thirty-five years old. She would either wear her hair in a bun or even cut it completely short on occasion and she would dress in boring clothes in bland ordinary colors; all because August would tell her to look professional for this job. And of course, she would always do what he wanted… hardly ever what she wanted anymore. August had run for mayor of Who York City and he's been mayor for four terms, a full sixteen years. But not everyone in the city was very happy about that, especially Martha.

But during that time, the unbearable abuse August inflicted upon Martha gradually became worse. He would often come home either tired or even wasted and if he saw something out of place, he would hurt Martha in a number of different ways, even if she didn't do anything. He would punch her, cut her, kick her, and basically turn her life into a living nightmare. But the worst part about August was his unpredictable nature; Martha would never know what kind of mood he would be in, especially if it's a good day. She hated it… and she hated him.

Once in a while, August would ask her to marry him and every time… she would say 'no', which would make him angry. But every so often he would keep asking, hoping she would finally say 'yes'; she never did.

It was the last few days of December; Christmas had passed and the New Year was quickly approaching. Martha had gotten home early from a long day at work and was ready to relax before August showed up to ruin the peace and quiet. As she changed into something more comfortable, she noticed a cardboard box hidden deep in her closet. She picked it up and discovered something wrapped in bubble wrap and newspaper; she unwrapped it and realized that it was the Christmas Tree Angel that the Grinch had made for her all those years ago. Martha smiled and started to cry, holding the Angel close.

"I miss you, Mr. Grinch…" She whispered.

She wondered if the Grinch still remembered her, even after all this time.

'Oh, what would he think of me now…?' She thought.

The front door opened. As quickly as possible, Martha put the Angel back in its box, shoved it back into the closet, and went out to greet August. He was wearing his usual gray suit, but he was holding a couple bags of takeout food. Martha was confused.

"Hello, my little flower." August said.

"What's this?" Martha asked.

"It's dinner. What do you think it is?" He shoved a pulled pork sandwich, some onion rings, and a medium diet soda into her hands before he sat down at the table. "I figured you would either be too busy or too lazy to cook tonight."

"What do you mean 'lazy'?"

"You know, never taking initiative; hardly doing your share around the house."

Martha sat down with wide eyes. "What are you talking about? I do my share."

"Not very often."

Martha was shocked and somewhat offended; she did far more than her fair share around the house. He shouldn't be complaining; in fact, he should be thanking her for everything she did. If anything, August isn't doing his share. All he ever did since he was elected mayor was sit around and basically do nothing but give orders and boss people around all day. She furrowed her brow as she stared at her food, not even touching it; she hated pulled pork and onion rings.

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" She asked, trying to sound stern.

August sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, must I draw you a picture? It means you've done nothing all day, especially since you've gotten that promotion."

"But that was years ago."

"Yes, but the day you received that promotion was also the day I saw you on the news singing Christmas songs with talentless urchins in front of Who Runway. And when you went to Thneedville, I heard that you assaulted Aloysius O'Hare during Fashion Week; splashing punch in his face, stomping on his foot, and storming off without saying another word. You humiliated me, and that's something that _cannot_ be forgiven."

Martha sneered. "I was trying to spread Christmas cheer to the company that day, that's my job. And you should know that O'Hare tried to _kiss_ me. _KISS_ me. I was only defending myself."

"Excuses, excuses."

"And besides, Johanna promoted me to Company Decorator for a reason."

"Oh yes, and that reason was because she felt so sorry for you. Wah, wah." He made a pouty face and pretended to cry like a baby.

She narrowed her eyes and slumped down into her chair. "Why do you always do this to me?"

August paused. "Do what?"

"This. You embarrass me and hurt me in any possible way you can think of. Is this what you think you're supposed to do in a relationship? You never let me do anything."

"Yes I do. I let you go to work."

"But that's it. Nothing else. I never get to go out with friends anymore or spend time with my family or even go out to get myself a new book or a cup of coffee."

"Only because you can't be trusted, especially with nice things."

"Me? _I_ can't be trusted?"

"Of course not. You _never_ do anything right."

She inhaled through her nostrils, stood up from the table, and went over to the door before tossing her food onto the floor. "I'm going for a walk."

He violently grabbed her arm. "No you're not. You are going to stay right here and eat the dinner I bought you, or else."

Martha stuttered. "But… I just threw it on the floor."

"Then you'll have to eat it off of the floor."

"You mean… like an animal?"

"Exactly. Do it."

"…No."

August froze. "…What did you say?"

"I said _no_. I'm NOT a pet and I will NOT stoop to that level."

"Eat. Your. Dinner. NOW." He pointed a finger to the food on the floor.

"I. Said. N—"

Martha was cut off with a strike across the face. She immediately fell to the floor, dazing and holding the cheek that was hit. A small stream of blood came from her nose as a black eye started to form. August stood over her with a wicked smile on his face.

"Look at you; you're pathetic." He taunted. "You are reduced to nothing but a drone, a mindless animal scavenging for its next meal; caught in a trap, begging and pleading for some kind of mercy. Well, guess what; there is no mercy, not anymore. This is what you were, what you are, and what you always will be. No matter what you say to yourself, no matter what you try to do, you will always be _my Little Flower_."

Martha remained silent as tears fell from her eyes.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The next morning, Martha couldn't get the vivid, horrific images of that night out of her head. August had forced her own food down her throat, which made her sick soon after; she was practically beaten to a pulp, blood dripped from her nose and a puncture wound on her cheek, her left cheek swelled up, and her right eye was black and blue. She remembered crying herself to sleep that night, fearing for her life the next time something like that would happen.

As she got ready for work, she remembered the box hiding in her closet; the homemade Christmas Angel from the Grinch was still laying inside. She knew August didn't know anything about the Grinch, the Angel, or her time in Whoville, but she also knew what he would do if he ever found out. But she didn't want to think about it.

As she grabbed a pack of toaster pastries for a quick breakfast, she was heading towards the door when something stopped her.

"Don't fill up on sweets." August's voice said. "Sugar is terrible for your figure."

Martha rolled her eyes and said, "Shouldn't you be at work by now?"

"Not yet. I have to be at work in about two hours, still plenty of time for a proper sendoff." August got up from the table and opened the door for Martha. "But have a good day. Oh! And one more thing, my Flower."

"Yes?"

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out, you clumsy thing."

It was then that Martha felt August's foot on her backside and she felt herself being pushed out the door, down the steps, and out onto the sidewalk. She groaned in pain when she heard the door slam shut. She started to cry as she shakily got up; the heels she was wearing weren't much help. Her cell phone rang.

"Hello?" She said, trying not to sound upset.

"Martha, where are you?" Heather's voice said. "Johanna needs you right away. She also needs you to get her coffee; the new girl Frieda forgot, _again_. You know the drill. I'll see you later."

The phone hung up. Martha breathed heavily as she went down the sidewalk towards the coffee shop. When she got out with the coffee, she recalled her first few weeks at Who Runway. She remembered the demands Johanna had given her, everything she made her do.

"It's the same." She whispered as she walked into Who Runway and up to Johanna's office. "It's the same. It's the same thing EVERY SINGLE DAY."

Tears fell from her eyes. She couldn't recall without feeling the sting. So Martha finally declared…

"I must stop this whole thing."

She slammed the coffee down onto Johanna's desk and turned to leave when Heather stopped her.

"Martha? What are you doing?" She asked.

It took a minute for Martha to respond. "Not now, Heather. I need to be alone."

She briskly walked out of the office and headed down the hall, leaving Heather in shock and confusion. She looked at Johanna for an answer.

"What was that all about?" The new second assistant asked with a laugh.

"That is none of your concern, Frieda." Johanna said sternly. "Heather, may I have a word with you?"

"Yes, Johanna." Heather said, going into Johanna's office. "You know something's wrong with Martha, right?"

"Of course. August must be getting to her again." Johanna whispered. "We've gotta do something."

"But what?"

"I know. Why don't you go try and cheer her up?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Get her some tissues, some comfort food, anything that might help."

"What kind of comfort food?"

"I don't know. Maybe… ice cream. Get her some ice cream; any kind of flavor would be fine. Just get to the root of the problem. Martha was late and she already has a ton of work to do."

"Yes, Johanna." Heather grabbed her purse and walked out of the office as quickly as possible.


	14. A Wonderful, Awful Idea

When she came back, Heather was carrying a couple of grocery tote bags; one had a few boxes of tissues and bandages while the other was filled with a gallon of bubblegum ice cream. She went to find Martha and she practically searched the entire building, but Martha was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Franklin. Have you see Martha anywhere lately?" Heather asked.

"Yeah, I think she's in the ladies' room." Franklin said before he spotted the bags. "What's all that stuff for?"

"It's lady stuff; none of your business." Heather said before briskly heading in the direction of the ladies' bathroom.

The moment she entered, Heather could clearly hear loud sobbing and heavy breathing coming from the last stall; Martha was in there. She knocked on the door.

"Go away." Martha said in between sobs.

"Martha, it's Heather. Johanna sent me. Can I come in, please?" Heather asked.

"…Just you."

Heather reluctantly opened the door and what she saw nearly made her gasp; Martha was crouched over the toilet with rivers of fresh tears falling from her eyes and down her cheeks. Her makeup was running and Heather could now see the fresh black eye and healing cuts. Martha noticed the look on Heather's face and sighed.

"That bad, huh?" She asked.

"Uh, I wouldn't say _that_." Heather replied, trying not to sound nervous.

"No, I get it. I look horrible… and you can thank August for that." Martha said before she noticed the tote bags. "What's that for?"

"Johanna told me to buy you these." Heather set the bags down and gave her a family-sized box of tissues, which Martha reluctantly accepted; she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I also get you this." She took out the large tub of ice cream and slid it over to her co-worker, along with a small bowl, a spoon, and a bottle of chocolate syrup. "I hope you like bubblegum."

At that point, Martha didn't care. She tore open the tub, took the spoon, and viciously ate from it, still crying all the while. Heather hesitantly sat down in another corner of the stall before closing the door and locking it shut; she uncomfortably watched Martha eat like a pig, unsure of what to say.

"So… how bad was it this time?" She asked after a minute of silence.

Martha stopped eating and paused, her mouth full. "I don't want to talk about it."

"O-okay. Next time, don't speak with your mouth full. It's _very_ unflattering."

Martha rolled her eyes, set the half-eaten tub of ice cream down, and ran a hand through her hair; she swallowed. "…Why?"

"What?" Heather asked.

"Why? For _sixteen_ years, I've put up with it now. I _must_ get away from this pain… but HOW?" She screamed into the toilet before continuing to cry.

Heather just sat in silence, unable to find a proper solution. Martha reached out and flushed the toilet a couple of times, not sure why. Then she sat up straight; she got an idea, an awful idea. Martha got a wonderful, awful idea.

"That's it. That is _it_." Martha whispered as she stood up. "I know just what to do." She smiled and giggled wickedly to herself.

"What?" Heather nervously asked, standing up.

Martha looked at Heather with a sly smirk on her face. "…I'll leave." She then headed out of the bathroom.

"Wait, wait, wait… WHAT?!" Heather shrieked, running after Martha.

"You heard me. Whomont." Martha said, sounding determined. "I'll leave Who Runway _and_ Who York and _never_ look back. I just can't believe I didn't think of this _sooner_! It's _brilliant_, and yet so _obvious_ at the same time!"

"Martha, no! You can't leave us! Please! Who Runway _needs_ you!"

"_No_, it doesn't. You all did perfectly fine before I came along. I'm sure you'll be so much better off without me."

"But-but Johanna—"

"I don't care what Johanna thinks anymore! I _don't_ feel at home in this city, I never have. The only place I truly feel at home is… is…"

"Whoville?"

"But I can't quit; August will surely find out. What I really _need_ is a plan… and I know just how to execute it." Martha then headed in the direction of Johanna's office.

"That can't be good." Heather muttered, trailing after her.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Martha was already standing in front of Johanna's desk when Heather finally caught up with her.

"What's happening?" Heather whispered to Frieda.

"I have no idea. Martha just walked in without saying a word." Brenda replied. "It doesn't look too good in there, though."

"Oh no…" Heather muttered.

"Martha, what's going on?" Johanna asked. "Did he hurt you again?"

"Yes, he did." Martha reluctantly answered. "And that's what I need to talk to you about."

"I'm all ears."

"I need to leave."

Johanna's eyes widened. "What? Leave?! Why?"

"It's the only way for me to escape this endless cycle of pain and torture. I'm sorry to do this to you Johanna, I really am, but this is something I really need to do."

"But… but what if August finds out what you're doing?"

"If he does, he won't find me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'll go to the one place he would _never_ dare to go."

"And where is that?"

"I'm afraid _that_ has to remain a secret. It's nothing personal, Johanna; I just _can't_ take any risks like that."

"If you say so. But… what do you want _me_ to do about it?"

"I want you… to fire me."

"Hold up, FIRE you?"

"It's the only way, Johanna."

"But for me to fire you, you're gonna have to—"

Before Johanna could finish, however, Martha had grabbed a cup of coffee and splashed it into Johanna's face. She screamed and Brenda and Heather watched in shock and horror.

"Is that enough for you?" Martha smugly asked, setting the cup down.

Johanna opened her mouth to speak before she paused. She gave Martha a conspiratorial smile, then a wink. "Enough? _Enough_? Are you kidding me?! You gave _more_ than enough reason! Martha May Whovier, you are FIRED!"

Heather gasped and nearly fainted.

"Thanks, Johanna. You're the best." Martha whispered before grabbing a glass bottle; she shook it up. "Oh by the way, that comes out with club soda." She then sprayed the bottle's contents into Johanna's face, which caused her to cry out in surprise. She dropped the bottle, which crashed on the floor. "I'll go clean out my office right now, then I'll get out of your hair."

"Yeah, you do that." Johanna said, spitting the coffee and soda water out of her mouth and grabbing a towel.

And with that, Martha left without saying another word. Heather and Frieda looked at each other before looking back at Johanna… who didn't look angry at all.

"Johanna?" Heather asked. "Is everything okay? Are you hurt?"

"Me? Oh, no I'm fine." Johanna said nonchalantly, wiping her face.

"Really? Because Martha just—"

"I know what she did, Heather… and it's okay."

"What?! It's _okay_?! Martha just walked into your office, sprayed you in the face with coffee AND soda water, and YOU'RE SERIOUSLY COOL WITH THAT?!"

"Yeah."

"WHY?!"

"Because I helped her."

"Wait, _helped_ her? …You knew?"

"Of course I knew, I'm not stupid. She _asked_ me to fire her; it was clear she was pretty unhappy working here and I didn't want to see her suffer in silence anymore, especially because of terrible people like Augustus May-Who. Besides, someone like Martha May deserves a workplace that better suits her own tastes. And honestly, I'm kinda _glad_." She put the towel down and smiled.

As Martha walked out of Who Runway, she couldn't help but smile. For the first time in a very long time, she felt happy.

"Look out Whoville, Martha May Whovier is coming home…"


End file.
